


Under My Skin

by TriaKane



Series: Designated Hitter [9]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Boston landmarks, Dancing, F/M, Falling deeply into like, First Date, OFC is immortal, Romance, sexy sex, still getting to know each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriaKane/pseuds/TriaKane
Summary: Finally able to get together, Lyn reminds Eliot that they've never had a first date. Eliot goes to extremes to rectify that situation.
Relationships: Eliot Spencer/OFC
Series: Designated Hitter [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/15392
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up immediately after [Missed Chances](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643947).

_I've got you under my skin_  
_I've got you deep in the heart of me_  
_So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me_  
_I've got you under my skin_  
_I'd tried so not to give in_  
_I said to myself this affair never will go so well_  
_But why should I try to resist when baby I know so well_  
_I've got you under my skin_  
~~Frank Sinatra

**Tuesday, two days later**

I had just wrapped the towel around myself when I heard Eliot’s ringtone and hurried to grab my phone off the counter.

“Hey!”

“Hey, you,” he said happily. “What’re ya doin’? Ya sound outta breath?”

“I just got outta the shower.”

“Mmm... so you’re wet?”

I laughed throatily at his innuendo, then said, “I am.”

“He he, I can be there in tw—” 

I cut him off.

“No,” I told him. “I’m starving!”

“I can feed you!” he said with a decidedly naughty tone.

“I know what you have in mind,” I teased. “But I want a lobster roll.”

“I can make you a lobster roll!” he said almost defensively.

“I want the one from Neptune Oyster,” I told him. “Meet me at the Haymarket T.”

He didn’t respond immediately and before I could try to figure out what he was thinking, he said, “Okay.”

***

I quickened my pace once I cleared the crowd exiting the train. It had been nearly 45 minutes since we’d spoken, and while my physical hunger was still in the forefront of my head, I was very nearly starving to see Eliot. 

It had been slightly more than three weeks since we’d parted in Chicago and I wondered if the time apart had made me romanticize Eliot. But as I rode up the escalator, I thought back to that first week together. 

Eliot had been sincere, caring, thoughtful. Even the last time I’d seen him in Chicago, he’d been exactly the same person as he’d been when we met. 

When the escalator reached the top, I looked around for him. When I spotted him, I couldn’t help but smile and felt an invisible weight lift.

As I walked towards him, I took in everything about his appearance: the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way he studied the people milling about. He was on guard.

The moment he saw me, everything in his stance and face changed. He smiled broadly as I approached, dropping his crossed arms and opening them to embrace me.

I slid my hands under his leather jacket when I hugged him. He was warm and strong, and felt familiar and welcoming. 

“Hi,” he said against my cheek.

I squeezed him tightly before pulling back to look into his eyes. 

“Hi.”

He brushed a strand of hair back behind my ear and caressed my cheek.

“You look cute,” he said, gesturing to my burgundy newsboy hat.

“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “You look good.”

He winked and said, “So, I need to feed you before you take a bite outta me?”

“Probably a good idea, yes.”

Releasing me, he held out his hand. As our fingers locked, I remembered how smoothly we’d fallen into this ease after meeting. 

We crossed the greenway and turned down Salem Street. Lucky was on our side and we got the last table before the restaurant filled up at lunch time.

Eliot helped me with my jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair before I sat down and took off my hat. He left his jacket on as he dropped into the chair beside me. 

The waiter, Brian brought still water while we looked through the menu. I had come for the lobster roll, but I wasn’t sure what Eliot was going to order, so when Brian came back to take our order, I was surprised Eliot was ready.

“What can I get you?” Brian asked.

“I’ll have the lobster roll, hot,” I told him. “Do you still have the Sam Adams Summer Ale?”

“I’ll have to check. If we don’t, what else would you like?”

“The Octoberfest.”

“Very good,” Brian said, then turned to Eliot. “And you, sir?”

“Same,” Eliot said, closing the menu, “but cold.”

“The Sam Adams also?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t usually drink beer,” Eliot commented when Brian walked away.

“Some things are better with beer. Lobster rolls, brats, crabs, oysters.”

He nodded in agreement as Brian returned with two bottles of the Summer Ale. The lemon flavor in the beer was a great accompaniment to the lobster.

“You prefer it hot?” Eliot asked.

“I like it both ways.” I shrugged. “Depends on the day.”

Looking around, he asked, “Come here a lot?”

“Not really,” I told him. “Maybe once a month when I’m in town. They’ve got the best lobster roll in town.”

“For now,” he said with a grin. “Haven’t tried mine yet.”

“I’ll definitely have to do that,” I said. “I was surprised you didn’t try something else. The cioppino is amazing.”

“Good to know, but if I don’t at least try the lobster roll, how’m I supposed to know why ya like it?” he reasoned.

Our lunches came then. I gave him a bite of my hot lobster roll and I could tell that the chef in him was analyzing the flavors. I wondered how long it would be before he was trying to recreate it.

“What else have ya tried from here?” he asked. 

“Not too much really,” I answered after a sip of beer.

“Not a fan of seafood?” 

“Oh, I like it all,” I told him. “I’ll put almost anything in my mouth at least once.”

His eyes burned into mine as he smirked.

“Anything you don’t like?” he asked.

“I’ll let you know.”

***

We decided to walk back to my place. Even though it was in the 60’s, the sun was shining brightly and there was a slight breeze; it was a beautiful early fall day. 

“Wanna get a dessert?” he asked. “Cannoli? Gelato? Cappuccino?”

“I don’t think so,” I told him. “I didn’t think you liked dessert.”

“Depends on the dessert.”

He squeezed my hand as we laughed.

“What kinds of desserts do you like?” he asked.

“Mmm... chocolate ice cream, key lime pie, blueberry muffins, strawberries and whipped cream, oatmeal pecan cookies...”

“Wait! Not oatmeal raisin?”

I wrinkled up my nose. “I don’t care for raisins.”

“What! How did I not know that?” he appeared shocked. “You like grapes?”

“Yes.”

“Wine?”

I laughed, “Yes.”

“But not raisins?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Am I undatable now?” I asked as we turned onto Beacon Street. 

“I don’t know,” he said with a half-shrug, “maybe.”

We walked on, enjoying the sunshine, but my thoughts drifted.

“You know,” I started, “we’ve never actually had a date.”

Eliot stopped and looked at me. 

“What’re you talking about?”

I gestured to the Common, so we crossed the street and found a bench.

“We’ve never had a ‘you call and ask me out, then pick me up and bring me home’ kind of date,” I clarified.

His brow furrowed as he looked off in the distance, then he said softly, “We’ might have to remedy that.” Then he picked up my hand and kissed it.

We sat in the park for another fifteen minutes, people watching, until a shiver ran through me. Even with Eliot’s warmth pressed against my side and the sun shining on us, I’d gotten a chill.

“Let’s get ya home,” he said, standing. “Got a couple ideas how to warm ya up.”

Laughing, I stood and took his hand, eager to get home quickly.

We’d just crossed Charles Street on our way into the public garden when Eliot grumbled under his breath and reached into his pocket. Pulling out his cell phone, he stepped away to answer as I slowly continued on.

“What?” he said gruffly. 

I smiled to myself because even though I could hear annoyance in his voice, his thoughts were worried.

“Dammit, Hardison! Can’t Parker handle it?” 

I pretended to study the pond in the distance.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll be there when I get there!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him slip his phone back into his pocket and walk back to me.

“I gotta... thing I gotta handle,” he said apologetically.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Come by when you’re done.”

“Might be late,” he warned.

I shrugged. “Wake me.”

He pulled me close and kissed me deeply before turning and walking away. 

***

Rolling over, I reached for Eliot but found only cold sheets. Opening my eyes, I looked around but his clothes that he’d dropped on the dresser were gone.

“Eliot?” I called but I didn’t expect a reply.

I got up and stepped into the bathroom. The glass walls of the shower were sprinkled with water and there was a damp towel hanging over on the rack. I was surprised that I’d slept through his morning ablutions, but we’d been up quite late after he’d woken me up when he’d arrived after midnight.

Slipping on a bathrobe, I went downstairs in case he was still here, realizing for the first time that the scent of fresh coffee was in the air.

The living room yielded no additional clues, but in the kitchen, beside the coffee maker, was a plastic container and a note.

_**Homemade. Talk to you later.** _

He hadn’t signed it, but it was unnecessary. 

I lifted the lid on the container and saw cookies. Oatmeal cookies. Picking one up, I took a small bite, chewing slowly. Oatmeal pecan cookies. 

Laughing, I poured myself a cup of coffee and put a couple of cookies on a plate for breakfast.

***

Reading through the material I’d received from my private detective, I was trying to decide how to proceed when my phone rang. It was Joann from my Chicago office.

“Did you get the packet?” 

“Yes, I’m looking over it now.”

“Do you know what you want to do yet?” Joann asked. “Mr. Williams called the office this morning and asked to speak to you.”

“Really?” I said. He was the CEO. Making a gut decision, I told her, “Set up three more meetings. One with his division chiefs, one with the board, and one with him. Schedule them all on the same day, back to back.” It was a strategy I’d used before to see who was worried and who wasn’t.

“I’ll set it up and text you the details.”

“Thanks, Joann.”

I gathered up the papers and put them back in the packet. Looking around the kitchen, I glanced at the clock and saw it was after three. I hadn’t heard from Eliot, so I figured I’d better work out what I was going to eat for dinner. I was looking through the freezer when my cell phone rang with his tone.

“Hey,” I said happily.

“Hey,” he said. “How’d you like those cookies?”

“They were great, thanks! I had them for breakfast. And I was just thinking about dinner.”

He chuckled softly. “Wish I could make ya dinner but ‘m workin’ on something.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Take care of what you need to do, I’ll be here.”

We hung up and before I could set my phone down, he called back.

“Forget something?” I asked.

“Yeah, I was wondering if ya’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night. Like a date.”

I looked up at the ceiling and smiled remembering our conversation from the day before. 

“I’d love to.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

“Sounds good.”

After I hung up, I sat at the kitchen counter. When we’d met, neither of us had been looking for anything serious, but here it was almost three months later, and we were definitely in a relationship. 

Most of the relationships I’d had since Thomas were short term, most only a couple of months, few had ever lasted more than a year. And even those hadn’t been as passionate or involved as what Eliot and I shared. That first week we’d spent together had really set the foundation; we’d learned more about each other in that week than I had in some relationships.

The doorbell shook me out of my reverie and I jumped off the stool to answer it.

“Ms. O’Neil?” the delivery man asked. 

“Yes.” 

After I signed the delivery slip, the delivery man handed me a small white envelope before heading back to his truck. I opened the envelope and pulled out a card.

_**Wear these for me.** _

I trembled in excitement.

When the delivery man returned, he was carrying three large white shopping bags, all from the same store where Eliot had purchased the white silk blouse.

After tipping the delivery man, I raced upstairs two at a time, very curious to find out what he’d sent.

I emptied the bags on the bed, looking longingly at the four boxes. They were all different sizes and I wasn’t sure which one to open first. Finally, I couldn’t stand it and opened the largest box.

After pulling the pale-yellow tissue paper aside, I gasped softly and pulled the dress out. 

It was a long-sleeved navy-blue cocktail dress. The bodice was velvet with a deep vee neckline in the front and an even deeper one in the back. It had a drop waist with a sunburst of tiny rhinestones on the right side, and a flared skirt. It was a dancing dress. 

I took a padded hanger from my closet and hung it up on the bathroom door where I could keep looking at it.

Opening the next largest box, I pulled out a navy-blue corset, matching lace panties, garter belt and stockings.

Sensing a trend, I opened the last two boxes. One was a navy clutch purse with a silver clasp, and the other was a pair of navy sling backs with kitten heels and a splatter of rhinestones across the toes.

Looking at everything he’d sent, I could hardly wait for tomorrow night.

***

Draping the grey cashmere wrap on the arm of the easy chair, I stepped towards the mirror that hung in the entry hall. The rhinestones caught the light and sparkled as I turned in a circle. I admired Eliot’s taste; he’d done an excellent job on the style and fit of the dress, as it complimented my body. It was the type of dress I would have chosen.

I turned my head to make sure my hair was still neat; I’d gone to a local salon that afternoon and had them style it in a classic French twist. While I’d been there, I’d also gotten a manicure, complete with long length tips, in a bold, deep red. 

Studying my reflection, I wondered if the matching lipstick was too much. I rarely wore lipstick, and when I did, it was varying shades of pink, but tonight felt like a night for a daring twist. I’d also gone dramatic with my eye makeup, adding fake lashes and heavy navy-blue eyeliner. 

Along with the stop at the salon, I’d visited the bank where I kept a safety deposit box. The teardrop sapphire necklace was nestled in the deep vee between my breasts, and the matching teardrop earrings hung from my ears; I’d picked up the set at an estate sale some sixty years ago. I’d added a sapphire cocktail ring that I’d bought twenty-five years ago to celebrate my 200th birthday.

The grandfather clock struck the half-hour and then the doorbell rang.

I took a moment to fully appreciate the butterflies in my stomach, and then went to answer it.

He looked magnificent. Wearing a black suit, he had added a navy vest that framed a grey shirt and a tie with stripes of blue, black and silver. His hair was smooth and shiny, and I caught sight of the silver hoop earrings I’d given him. 

“Wow!” he said, putting his hand on his chest. “Ya take my breath away.”

“Thank you,” I said with a brilliant smile. “You look amazing.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

“You ready?” he asked.

“One second.”

Picking up the wrap and the clutch, I stepped back to the door. Eliot gracefully took the wrap and draped it over my shoulders. 

We stepped outside and after taking my keys, he locked door, then offered me his arm. I took it and we walked down the stairs to the waiting town car. 

***

Sitting in the town car, I couldn’t take my eyes off Eliot. He seemed to be lit up from within and he oozed happiness; his smile was infectious. He held my hand the whole ride, his thumb caressing mine. 

When we pulled up to the Columbus Avenue establishment, he got out and came around, opening the door for me and holding out his hand. The street was quiet outside Ford’s Imperial and the doorman opened the door to admit us. 

The entryway itself was small, but through a doorway on the right I saw a bar. On the left was a coat check and a long hallway which I guessed led to the restrooms.

Eliot took my wrap, and after checking it, he pocketed the claim check. We were led through double doors into the restaurant.

As we were shown to our table, I felt Eliot’s hand in the small of my back. It felt familiar and I liked the feeling. When we got to the table, Eliot held my chair and then sat beside me.

Our table was right beside the dancefloor, directly opposite the band. I wondered if Eliot had requested this table, as it was against everything I’d learned about him; I knew he preferred booths, and having his back to a wall. The restaurant was about half-full, and there were empty booths, so I had to ask.

“Did you ask for a table by the dancefloor?” 

He winked as the waiter arrived.

“Good evening, I’m Perry and I’ll be your server tonight,” he greeted them. “Can I start you off with a cocktail?”

I wasn’t sure if Eliot had something in mind, so I waited for him to respond. 

“Two Dubonnet cocktails, please.”

“Very good, sir.”

I smiled to myself; I hadn’t had a Dubonnet cocktail in more years than I wanted to remember, and I wondered where he’d heard of it.

Opening his menu, he asked, “So, what looks good?”

Pushing my menu away from me, I waited for him to look up.

“Order for me,” I told him.

He smiled broadly and nodded his head. 

When Perry brought our drinks, Eliot was ready to order. Trusting Eliot’s knowledge, I was confident he would order the best things on the menu.

After Perry walked away, Eliot raised his glass and I followed suit.

“To our first date,” he said with a wink.

We clinked glasses and I took a sip of the slightly bitter cocktail. It was better than I remembered and considered having it again. 

The band had been playing steadily since we’d gotten there, and I took a moment to appreciate the music. It was a classic jazz band seemingly led by the piano player. The tune they were playing sounded familiar and I hummed along for a few seconds until I felt Eliot’s eyes on me.

“Know this one?” he asked.

“I think so,” I told him, then sang along. _“Oh, when your heart's on fire, you must realize, smoke gets in your eyes.”_

He smiled appreciatively, and said, “Dance with me.”

I set my cocktail glass down and stood up, taking his hand and letting him lead me onto the dancefloor. 

He held me close, his hand resting in the small of my back, rubbing tempting circles with his thumb on the bare skin in the back vee of the dress. The kitten heels he’d bought for me, allowed me to rest my temple against his jaw, and I closed my eyes, lost in the moment.

The song ended and the band effortlessly slipped into another and we kept dancing. Even though we were in the middle of a restaurant, I felt like we were the only two people there.

When the next song ended, Eliot stopped and I pulled back, opening my eyes. Having danced us near our table, he took my elbow and led me off the dancefloor. He pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit before taking his own seat. 

We picked up our cocktails and drank thirstily. 

Perry returned to our table and set down two red wine glasses, then left and returned with a silver wine chiller. Setting it on the table, he took the bottle of red wine out and showed it to Eliot. 

Eliot nodded and Perry poured a tasting. Picking up the glass by the stem, Eliot tilted it away from himself, studying the look and color of the wine. Then he set it on the table and swirled the pale red berry colored liquid a couple of times before lifting it to his nose. 

He took a small sip of the wine, letting it linger on his palate, tasting its richness. When he finally swallowed the sip, he nodded to Perry, who then picked up my glass and filled it halfway.

“Very nice,” Eliot said when Perry filled his glass.

After returning the bottle to the chiller, Perry removed our cocktail glasses.

I raised my wine glass and took a sip. While I wasn’t a connoisseur, I did enjoy a variety of wine.

“Like it?”

Nodding, I set my glass down before answering. “Very much.”

“What do ya taste?” His eyes twinkled when he asked.

I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and replied, “Cherry.”

“And?” 

His grin was infectious.

“Spice.”

He nodded and touched his glass to mine before taking another sip.

Perry returned then with our dinner.

“For the lady,” he said, setting the plate in front of me. “Duck breast with crispy skin in a berry gastric, with roasted spaghetti squash.”

The presentation was beautiful.

“And for the gentleman, whiskey braised beef short ribs with a chimichurri sauce and haricot verts.”

“Thank you, Perry,” Eliot said.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

Eliot looked at me, but I shook my head, and Perry walked away.

We enthusiastically dug into our meals. The combined taste of the duck and berry gastric were complimented by the cherry flavor in the wine, and I ate several bites before glancing at Eliot.

I didn’t need to see his face to feel his enthusiasm and appreciation of the great food. His short ribs looked wonderful and I hoped for a chance to try them.

His eyes met mine as he raised a forkful. Lowering his fork, he asked, “Wanna try it?”

I smiled in gratefulness and nodded. He turned the fork my way and I opened my lips. His grin turned mischievous and he dragged the fork across my bottom lip, spreading the flavor, before sliding the fork between my lips.

“Mmm...” I moaned quietly as I licked the sauce off my lips.

The beef and whiskey and chimichurri married well, and when I took a sip of wine, it enhanced the flavors even more.

Looking up, I saw Eliot watching me, his index finger caressing his lips. I knew he’d enjoyed my pleasure at the food. 

“Would you like to try mine?”

He grinned at me and leaned towards me.

“Always.”

I slowly cut a bite of duck, making sure to include the crispy skin and the berry gastric, before lifting it towards his waiting mouth. He parted his lips, but instead of doing as he had and leaving some sauce on this bottom lip, I made sure the forkful touched the side of his mouth.

He chewed his bite with relish, moaning as he chewed.

“That’s good!” he said, picking up his napkin.

Quickly I put my hand on his, stopping his movement, and leaned closer.

“You missed some,” I said before lapping the side of his mouth to clean the sauce off.

Turning his head, he softly kissed me. He kept his eyes open, as did I, and when he leaned back, his smile was nearly blinding.

Perry returned a few minutes later and cleared the table. 

“Would you care for dessert or coffee?” he asked. “We have homemade cheesecake with fresh berries and Boston crème pie.”

Eliot once again took control and I let him.

“I think we’d just like coffee.”

“Very good, sir,” Perry said before walking away.

Eliot held out his hand and asked, “Wanna dance again?”

Returning to the dance floor, we joined three other couples. The band was playing songs that were more familiar, and just when I recognized the current song, I heard Eliot singing softly in my ear.

_“I've got you under my skin, I'd tried so not to give in, I said to myself this affair never will go so well, but why should I try to resist when baby, I know so well.”_

I leaned back so I could look into his eyes as he sang the next line.

_“I've got you under my skin.”_

Pulling me snug against him, Eliot leaned in and kissed me softly, holding me in place long after the song had ended.

When he finally broke the kiss, I breathed against his lips, “You’re under my skin.”

***

The evening had cooled off, so I pressed myself more firmly against Eliot in the town car on the ride home. Pulling up outside the townhouse, Eliot got out and held out a hand for me. I expected him to release the car for the night, but instead, he closed the car door and took my hand, walking me to the door. 

I took my key from the clutch and Eliot took it from me, unlocking the door and reaching in to input the security code. Handing me the key, he held my hand.

“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” I asked, sensing something unusual.

“I’d like to, but,” he reminded me, “it’s only our first date.”

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. 

“Maybe we could do this again?” he asked unnecessarily.

“I’d like that,” I answered, playing along. 

He pushed open the front door and gestured for me to go in.

“Goodnight,” I said, closing the door.

He stood there waiting until he heard the deadbolt click and the chirp of the alarm resetting. 

Stepping into the living room, I peeked out the front windows and watched Eliot walk back to the car. I saw him open the front door of the car and slide in; I was a little surprised when the car pulled away but I smiled to myself when I thought about how seriously he had taken the concept of a first date.

Certain Eliot would come back, I headed upstairs, dropping my clutch on the dresser and my wrap on the chair. I pulled the comforter down to the end of the bed and folded it neatly, before lighting a couple of candles on each of the bedside tables. I turned on the sound system and found a channel playing instrumental jazz, and with a flick of a switch, music flowed through the whole house.

I slip the zipper down on the back of the dress and hung it in the closet, before turning to the mirror and checking my hair and makeup. Hearing the front door alarm chime, I flipped the light off and headed downstairs. 

Stopping on the bottom step, I saw Eliot filling a glass from the water dispenser on the fridge and waited until he turned before saying anything.

“Hey.”

He sat on a bar stool and took a long drink before he said, “Hey, yourself.”

I slowly walked to him, took the glass and a sip before setting the glass on the counter. He leaned back with an easy grin. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the smile off his face. I knew he had something in mind, and the anticipation of it was intoxicating.

Sliding my hands down the lapels of his suit, I slid my hands inside the jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. He released me so I could slide the jacket all the way off. I draped it on the other bar stool and turned back to him.

His fingers toughed my thigh and I stopped, waiting to see what he’d do. Slowly he trailed his fingers along the tops of the stockings around my leg, up to my backside until he slid a finger underneath the edge of the panties.

I sucked in a breath and waited to see what he’d do next. 

“Third date sex?” he asked with a grin.

“Surprise me,” I replied, knowing any kind of sex with him would be great.

I laid my hands on his vest, sliding two fingers between the buttons.

“You won’t need this,” I said, and popped open the first button. 

I made quick work of the other buttons, and slid the navy vest off and laid it across his jacket. Reaching for his tie, my eyes met his and I saw a hint of amusement. After I pulled his tie off and tossed it aside, he stood up. 

Reaching up, Eliot slowly massaged my scalp, finding with his nimble fingers, the pins that held the updo in place. When he’d removed all the pins, my hair fell in gentle waves between my shoulder blades.

I pulled his dress shirt from his pants and quickly undid the buttons. He held out his wrists and I released his cufflinks. While he slid off his shirt, I set the cufflinks on the counter behind him. He was still wearing his ever-present undershirt, this time a black one.

Resting his hands on my hips, he sat back down on the stool and pulled me between his spread his legs; I slipped between them like the space was made for me. His thumbs made teasing circles on my hip bones before he slid his hands behind me. 

With a grin, he squeezed my ass a couple of times before he snapped the straps holding my stockings up against my backside and thighs. I hissed in pleasure and surprise. He chuckled and the crinkles at the side of his eyes deepened. I felt him pull the elastic straps taught and expected another snap, but instead, he popped open the clips that held my stockings up. 

Laughing, I cupped his face and kissed him softly, then nipped his bottom lip before I pulled away.

“Where ya goin’?” he said, tightening his grip on my hips.

“Nowhere.”

He nudged my hips in a certain direction and I turned around so he could pull me back against him, my ass resting snug against his growing hardness. 

Holding me against him, his hands slid up and down, from the swell of my breasts to the tops of my stockings, sampling the difference in the texture between skin and silk. 

He ran his fingers up my thighs, his nails biting ever so gently until he cupped my sex with one hand while the other continued its slow slide upwards until he cupped my breast. Squeezing my breast rhythmically, his hand cupping my sex following suit. It was a steady and tempting and I wanted more. 

As if reading my mind, he slowed the cupping of my sex and slid his hand higher, his fingers slipping inside the waistband of my panties. Spreading my legs wider, I silently begged for his touch.

I felt him smile against my neck before his hand slid fully down my panties and cupped my sex again. Ever so slowly one of his fingers slipped between the folds and felt my wetness. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, my eyes closing and my mouth opening as he slowly started circling my clit with two fingers.

His hand which had been squeezing my breast was now focusing on my nipples, pinching and then releasing them through the lace corset. After he’d tormented them for a few minutes, he raised his fingers to my parted lips and slipped them inside my mouth. 

I sucked his fingers and felt him harden more against my backside. Sliding his fingers from my mouth, he used his thumb to push the lace material aside, so my nipples were exposed to his sight. He used the wetness from my fingers to dampen the nipples and then I felt him blow across the surface; my nipples tightened even more, and my body throbbed in response.

His lips were on my neck, wet open-mouthed kisses, as he made his way to the junction of neck and shoulder, and then his teeth grazed my shoulder. I moaned softly and felt him chuckle against my skin.

Picking up the pace, the touch of his hand between my legs changed and became more intensive. I felt his fingers slide inside me, gently finger fucking me as his thumb circled my clit. His touch was firm and steady, winding me up bit by bit, my orgasm slowly building with every stroke.

And finally... bliss. I rode out the waves of pleasure in his arms while he hummed against my neck. When I stopped trembling, he slipped his hand from my panties and I tried to slip from his embrace to my knees so I could turn and return the favor, but as if reading my mind, he kept a firm hold on me as we stood and he kicked the stool out of the way. 

Lifting me onto the counter, I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist and met his lips in a fiery series of kisses. I felt his hands behind me, expertly unhooking the dozen hooks that held the corset closed, then he slid the shoulder straps from my arms and dropped it on the counter beside me. I grabbed the back of his undershirt and pulled it up, loath to break the kiss, but wanting to feel his hot skin against mine.

He broke the kiss and yanked the undershirt off, tossing it behind him. I reached for his belt and quickly opened it and his pants, and they fell into a puddle at his feet. Reaching for his boxers to release his hard cock, his hands on mine stopped me.

“Nah, not yet,” he said gently at my confused expression. “Lemme taste you.”

I felt a quiver of excitement run through me.

Easing me back on the counter, he ran his hands down my legs, slipping my shoes off. When he ran his hands back up my legs, he popped open the clip that held the stocking up with a quick move and slowly eased the stockings down, dropping them on the floor. 

Pulling the garter around, he unhooked it and let it drop back on the counter. He ran his hands back down my thighs, stopping on my knees and slowly spread my legs. With a wicked grin, he leaned down and pressed his nose between my legs and inhaled deeply.

A crush of desire and need swept over me. I moaned softly as I felt his fingers slide under the leg band of the panties, teasing the tender skin. He took his time sliding his fingers all the way around to the back before pulling them down and sliding them all the way off.

Before I could miss his touch, he was spreading my legs wider, his fingers and tongue in and on me. His fingers were firm and sure as they wiggled and twisted inside me, reigniting the fire he’d started earlier. His tongue was insistent as it licked and flicked against my clit. Eliot was slowly and steadily pushing me towards a second amazing orgasm. 

As I came down from my post orgasmic high, I watched him kick off his pants, shoes and socks, and then he reached for me. The second my feet hit he floor, he swept me up in his arms and carried me upstairs, taking them two at a time.

Once upstairs, he made the sweetest, gentlest love to me. 

It had been the best first date I’d ever been on.

**Author's Note:**

> Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by The Platters. Under Your Skin by Frank Sinatra. Both songs used without permission but with respect. Neptune Oyster in Boston is a real place that has one of the top 10 lobster rolls. I haven't eaten there, but I've walked by; it's always so crowded!! :)


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